The Memorial
by tutncleo
Summary: Crack Fic! Continuation of "Five Times Gibbs Killed Ziva" - slash warning!


**The Memorial**

He should be sad. Today was the memorial for Ziva, since there hadn't been enough left of her after the explosion and subsequent fire, to bury. But it was warm, and the sun was shining. The early afternoon air felt good on his face, and Gibbs was glad not to be stuck inside.

He should feel more somber. But there were people here he hadn't seen in years, and it had been nice to say hello to them in person, to catch up on what was going on in their lives.

He should be strong for his team. But they didn't seem to need that. Ducky had merely raised an eyebrow when Gibbs had delivered the news to him. He'd stared at him hard, then noted that Vance was going to have his hands full, and had gone back to autopsying the body he'd been working on. Abby had been dismayed when she first learned about the car bomb, but analyzing the evidence seemed to have helped her regain her equilibrium. By the time she'd called him back down to her lab, and had archly announced that for some strange reason the explosives were completely untraceable, she was already starting to warn him not to be too hasty in choosing a replacement. As he'd been cleaning out her desk, McGee's only question had been whether this meant he was back to being the probie. Palmer, well Palmer was less jumpy, and Gibbs knew that was because he had always been afraid of the assassin. Tony had never said a word about how he felt about Ziva's death, but there had been no indications that he was upset. In fact, he was actually behaving more carefree than he had in years, and their love life had taken a decided turn for the better. They were all here today, appropriately dressed in black, trying to look solemn, and secretly enjoying the respite from the ordinary workday as much as he was.

The amassed mourners were an interesting collection of people. To the right sat the NCIS contingency. People that Ziva had worked with on a daily basis, or people she'd come into contact with on one case or another. On the much smaller left side were representatives of the Mossad and the Israeli government. Both sides were spending time sneaking secretive glances at the other, sizing each other up, trying to figure out who fell into the friend column, and who should be categorized as foe. Everyone looked forward, though, when the sound of a throat being cleared rang out over the sound system.

Up on the dais, peering out at the crowd, stood Ducky. Vance had persuaded Ducky to eulogize Ziva this morning, probably figuring that of all the candidates, the elderly ME was the least likely to start an international incident; an assessment Gibbs was hard pressed to disagree with. He'd flat refused to say anything today, when the director had approached him about it. Given the situation, that would have been, to quote Abby, 'hinky.' Gibbs smirked as he thought that.

"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen," Ducky began. "It's a pleasure to see such a diverse assemblage of people. Ziva would have been honored that so many of you chose to come to remember her, although I wish we were gathered here today due to happier circumstances. I've been asked to share with you some of my memories of Ziva, so I think I should start at the beginning. When she first arrived at NCIS, I worried that she might not fit in, that her background would prove to be too different. It reminded me of when I was a much younger man. I'd been sent to help with an operation the British government was cooperating with the Russian Army on, and there was a beautiful young Slavic doctor I was assigned to. We didn't trust each other at first….."

Gibbs tuned Ducky out. He knew from long years of personal experience that once Ducky started in on an old story, it could take forever for him to get his point across – if indeed he ever did arrive at the point of the story. Besides that, he wasn't sure he wanted to delve into his own recollections of Ziva. Gibbs' first strong memory of Ziva was centered around two deaths – the death of Kate and the subsequent murder of Ari. That should have been a sign to him. Instead he'd allowed Jenny to thrust her upon him, and it had been an uneasy alliance from the start. Her presence had changed the dynamics of the team, and not for the better. Things were better now, though. Tony was better now. They were all better now.

A strange choking sound snapped Gibbs out of his musing. He became aware of the fact that Tony's shoulders were shaking slightly. Glancing to his side in alarm, Gibbs looked at his senior agent. Tony's head was down, and he'd raised his right hand up to cover his mouth. But what Gibbs had first mistook for signs of grief, were actually Tony's attempts to keep from chuckling out loud. Looking back up at the podium, Gibbs refocused on Ducky.

The doctor stood there, a look of horror on his face. "….wish to apologize. When I said _'sleeping with the enemy,'_ I didn't mean to imply that I had engaged in inappropriate behavior with Ziva… Oh dear…._Or_ that I viewed her as the enemy." Ducky stopped there, seeming to flounder for a moment. Drawing himself up to his full height, he tried again. "I was merely making an analogy, however poorly thought out. I was _trying_ to illustrate how people are sometimes different than we first assume, and that it is only through shared _intimate_ experiences….Oh my!"

Tony started to shake harder. Tears were now beginning to leak out of his eyes from the effort it was taking to stop himself from erupting into peals of laughter. Gibbs realized this was a once in a lifetime opportunity. Reaching over, he draped an arm around Tony, and pulled him close. To the casual observer, it would look like a concerned team leader, offering comfort to mourning agent.

Tony buried his head in Gibbs' shoulder. No one saw him when he opened his mouth and nipped at Gibbs, sending shivers racing along the older man's spine. Gibbs ran his palm up and down Tony's back, under the pretense of soothing away his grief, while really enjoying the heat that rose through the cloth of Tony's suit and warmed his hand. Against his shoulder, he felt Tony take a sharp little gasp of air when Gibbs let his fingers drift as low as he dared. Using his body as cover, Tony's fingers honed in on Gibbs' chest and tweaked one of his nipples. The camouflaged display of affection was pushing all of Tony's voyeuristic buttons. When Tony's hand began to drift south, Gibbs knew he had to draw the game to a close, before it was out of control.

Leaning his head down, until his mouth pressed against Tony's ear, he quietly whispered, "Later." Tony sighed, and then silently nodded his understanding. After taking a shaky breath, Tony straightened himself up, and Gibbs let his arm fall from his shoulder. Looking around, Gibbs noticed McGee, who was sitting beside him, watching - his face a mixture of surprise and concern. Gibbs wasn't worried that Tim had seen anything inappropriate; he was merely reacting to Tony's apparent breakdown. Tony hadn't shown any real distress over Ziva's demise prior to this memorial, so McGee was justifiably confused. Gibbs gave Tony's neck a quick squeeze, as he nodded in McGee's direction. Then all three of them focused back on Ducky.

The ME seemed to be winding down. "….her unique contributions. She cannot be replaced, nor shall we try to."

Ducky was right about that, Gibbs thought. There would be no more Ziva's on his team, ever, not if he could help it, and certainly not in the near future. He'd just gotten rid of her! Gibbs had already told Vance that he refused to think about adding a new member to the team this soon after Ziva's death, and the director hadn't argued. Gibbs knew that wouldn't last, but for now they'd all settled into a comfortable rhythm. Abby had started referring to them as 'Her Boys,' clearly enjoying being the de facto female on the 'team'. Tony didn't seem to feel the need to posture anymore, and his and McGee's work relationship had even improved. There was less sniping, which led to fewer headslaps from him, which was something both Tony and McGee seemed to appreciate.

"And now, Director Vance asked Agent McGee to create a video highlighting Ziva's time with us, so I am turning the podium over to him. Agent McGee," Ducky said, his relief at being done clearly evident as he beckoned for Tim.

McGee scrambled awkwardly to his feet. Everyone took time to enjoy the break from Ducky's speech while McGee made his way to the front. When Tim got to the podium, he reached down for laptop that sat on one of the shelves of the podium, and brought it up to the top and opened its lid. Then, looking out at the audience he said, "Hello. For those of you who don't know me, my name is Timothy McGee, and Agent David was on my team at NCIS."

From somewhere amongst the Mossad section of mourners, someone loudly corrected him by saying, "Officer. She was Officer David."

McGee's eyes scanned that side nervously, searching for the disgruntled heckler. "Um…yes…well….um, actually Officer David was in the process of becoming Agent David, but um…..that doesn't really matter now, does it?"

When there was no answer, he continued. "Um, I've already uploaded the video I made highlighting Age….Ziva's… time with us to YouTube. If you turn your attention to the screen behind me, I'll call it up right now." McGee tapped away at the keyboard, and suddenly Ziva's face appeared on the giant screen behind the dais. She was wearing an NCIS ball cap and squinting up at something – not the most flattering picture ever taken of Ziva. The picture faded, and another shot of Ziva, this time at a crime scene, took its place. McGee looked at the screen and frowned.

"Hmm, where's the sound?" the microphone picked up as he mumbled to himself.

Then he punched a few more keys on the laptop, and the sound system sprang to life. Blaring from the speakers came, "Ding dong, the witch is dead, the wicked witch, the wicked……" McGee frantically stabbed at the computer, and the sound disappeared.

A beet-red faced McGee stuttered something into the mic, but it was hard to hear what he'd said, as the assembled guests were loudly reacting to what had just happened. There was a cacophony of gasps, shrieks, and protests, all of which effectively drowned out McGee's horrified apology. Gibbs was glad for the noise; it covered the sounds Tony was making, as he finally lost the battle to suppress his laughter. All around them people were reacting. Everyone except Abby, who sat very quietly in her chair, her hands folded genteelly on her lap. Gibbs whapped Tony on the back of the head, and then reached across him to nudge his forensic scientist. Abby turned her face to him, her expression a study in innocence.

When Gibbs arched an eyebrow at her, she shrugged slightly. "Did you have something to do with this video?" he demanded of her. Abby widened her already wide eyes. "Don't lie to me," he warned.

"I might have helped him with it," she hedged.

"And the music?" he pushed.

"McGee might have thought it was going to be 'Somewhere Over The Rainbow'." She admitted with a wince.

"Abby!" Gibbs hissed, but stopped there, because it was beginning to quiet back down as McGee continued to apologize and claim no knowledge of why that song had played. When McGee said they'd just watch the rest of the presentation without the audio, Gibbs looked at Abby again and asked, "There aren't going to be any other surprises are there? Because it would be really nice to get out of here without having to pull my gun to defend McGee from a bunch of pissed off Israeli assassins."

Abby immediately shook her head, and held up two fingers, offering a scout's promise. Gibbs just grunted in response to that.

Meanwhile, Tony's efforts to quell his laughter had given him the hiccups. So, as the video continued, Tony punctuated each changing picture with a little belch, which elicited quiet giggles from Abby. Gibbs sat in his chair and silently fumed, wondering how, even in death, Ziva was still managing to give him a headache.

Finally the now silent film in tribute to Ziva was done, and McGee slunk off the speaker's platform and hurried back to his seat next to Gibbs. As he sat down, he was already whispering, "Honest, Boss. I didn't put that on the video. I don't have any clue how….."

"I know," Gibbs interrupted him, "and I do. Don't worry about it McGee. If any of the Mossad officers here were going to try to kill you, you'd already be dead."

Vance was now at the microphone. "And I think we should stop here," he said. His eyes rapidly scanned the crowd, hovering for just a fraction longer than necessary on Gibbs and his team. Even from where he was sitting, Gibbs could see Vance's eyes narrow slightly. There was going to be hell to pay, he knew. Vance hadn't wasted any love on Ziva, but he didn't like to be made a fool of. Between Ducky, McGee, and Abby's tampering, this had not been the political opportunity Vance had been hoping for. It was lucky that SecNav and Director David had been unable to attend the memorial, or Vance's retribution would have been fast and brutal. As it was, Gibbs was going to have to talk fast; he just hoped he wouldn't have to resort to reading that damned file Kort had left him. Having to resort to blackmail would leave a bad taste in his mouth, and ruin what had otherwise been a perfect week.

After Vance made a few more innocuous remarks about Ziva, and how she would be missed, the service was over. As people began to mill around, Ducky, Palmer in tow, hurried over to where Gibbs stood, with the rest of his team clustered around him.

"Jethro!" he exclaimed. "I have no idea how that went so wrong. For an instant, I was rendered speechless!"

That comment caused Tony to hiccup again.

"I do hope I haven't offended anyone," Ducky continued to fuss. "Well, all I can hope is that they forgot my inadvertent slips of the tongue when fifty midgets' voices screeched out over the PA system."

"Little people. Remember how Heddy hates the term midget," Abby corrected him kindly.

"Ah yes. Really, I don't know where my head is today," Ducky mumbled. "Ziva must be rolling in her grave! I haven't been this embarrassed since I was in West Africa." Palmer put a reassuring hand on his mentor's shoulder, and lent a sympathetic ear to Ducky's continuing story.

Now McGee was muttering again to himself, Abby looked like the cat that had swallowed the canary, Tony was rapidly losing the battle to hide his amusement, and Vance was descending on them like a thundercloud. Needing to head the storm off before it erupted, Gibbs reached out and yanked Tony to him, forcing his face down onto his shoulder. Then with his hands wrapped around Tony's shaking back, he silently signed for Abby to behave herself.

"Gibbs!" Vance hissed, when he got over to them.

"I know, Leon," he said, before Vance could say another word. "That could have gone better. But they were all innocent mistakes."

"I find that hard to believe. And what the hell's the matter with DiNozzo?" Vance asked, as he looked at Tony pressed against Gibbs' shoulder.

"It all just hit him at once," Gibbs offered as explanation.

"I didn't think he even liked David?" Vance asked distractedly.

Not wanting to touch that comment, Gibbs looked to his left, and asked, "Isn't that the director of the FBI over there, talking with Senator Daudry?" Senator Daudry was the head of the Senate's appropriation committee, in charge of fixing the budgets for the various intelligence agencies, and the FBI was always trying to get extra money, at NCIS's expense.

"Shit!" Vance cursed, as he looked. Turning back to Gibbs he snapped, "Take the rest of the day off, all of you! I don't want to see any of your faces until Monday. Maybe by then I'll have put out all the damned fires!" With that, he strode off in the direction of the senator, without as much as a glance behind him.

All of his team stood there, having listened intently to Gibbs' exchange with Vance. Looking at them, Gibbs grunted, "You heard him. Off you go."

"Timmy, I think you could use a drink," Abby said, sidling up beside McGee, and wrapping him in a hug. "Ducky, do you and Palmer want to join us?"

"That would be lovely, my dear," Ducky said. "We can toast Ziva."

"I think that's already been done," Abby couldn't resist pointing out, as Tony hiccupped.

"What about Tony and Gibbs?" McGee asked then.

Gibbs jumped right in, not wanting to leave the answer up to Abby. "I'll drive DiNozzo home. He needs some time alone. We'll have to take a rain check."

"Yes, that seems like an excellent idea. Anthony, don't hesitate to call me if you need something," Ducky offered, as he reached over to pat Tony's still trembling shoulders.

Tony's only response was a muffled hiccup, and a nod of his head.

"Let's go, DiNozzo," Gibbs gave Tony's neck a warning squeeze, and then turned so Tony would be facing away from the rest of the team when he straightened up. Together, they walked swiftly away.

Once they were in the car and safely on their way to Gibbs' house, Tony asked, "Alone time? Is that what we're going to call it from now on?" Then, having amused himself, he started to snicker again.

When hiccups began to replace the laughter, Gibbs growled, "Are you done now? I can still turn around and take you back to your apartment."

"You can take me anywhere you want, Jethro," Tony said suggestively.

"Oh, and I intend to," Gibbs assured him.

"Ah, the perfect ending for a perfect day!" Tony said, as he leaned over and nipped at Gibbs' neck.


End file.
